Tintin in Panem
by Jadespade
Summary: Tintin and Chang are orphans in District 4. But when Tintin volunteers for Chang in the reaping, their lives turn upside down. It's the 40th Hunger Games. 23 tributes will kill or be killed. As Tintin struggles with his slipping sanity, he starts to wonder. Will he make it out alive?
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: This is a rewrite of my fanfiction "Tintin in the Hunger Games". Hopefully it's better now. District 4 is not a Career District in this story.)**

The salty smell of the ocean drifted through the town square of District 4 as it gradually began filling up with people. They all gazed with fear at the two bowls on the stage, for both contained slips of every teenager's names. Two would be chosen. Two innocent children would be taken away to fight to their deaths. And since District 4 was one of the poorer districts, most of the people had too little to eat, so the odds of survival were very low. There had only been 1 victor in the past 40 years, and that was Captain Haddock, who had turned to alcohol to cope with the trauma. Families huddled together, their hearts beating furiously as the teenagers all wondered if they had luck on their side. Every year, people stood in the square as silent chaos ran rampant throughout the square as breaths were held and fingers were crossed.

A group of kids of various ages stood in the back, quietly talking with each other. They were orphans that had been kicked out of their homes into the streets, where they stole food and money to survive. While they were still required to attend school, where they lived didn't matter to the Capitol. They knew each other well, although they usually didn't lift a finger to help each other. These orphans were all treated with respect, as they were the most hardened, most likely to survive out of all of the people who had their names in the bowls.

A 12 year old named Chang held the hand of the 14 year old boy next to him, quivering slightly and swallowing nervously. "Chang?" the boy asked. "Are you all right?" _What a stupid thing to say. Of course he's not, how could he be? _he thought.

"Tintin, I'm scared." Chang said quietly as his black eyes stared at the two bowls on the stage in terror. "What if my name gets chosen? You know I wouldn't survive."

"Chang, you're just 12." Tintin said. "You've only got one slip in there out of thousands of others."

"But it's happened before. It's not impossible." Chang said.

"No, it's not. But Chang, worrying won't change anything." Chang didn't reply. He merely buttoned his green jacket and shivered.

Tintin would have said more reassuring comments if Bianca Castafiore hadn't interrupted him. "Welcome, welcome." she said in a typical high-pitched Capitol voice. "The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing District 4 in the 40th annual Hunger Games!" She sighed in happiness. "Oh, why do you all look so unhappy? Perhaps I should sing a song to cheer you up!"

It was at this moment that Captain Haddock stood up and yelled, "BLISTERING BARNACLES, NO!" and collapsed in a drunken heap. Some people laughed but stopped when they remembered what they were here for.

"Ma'am, the reaping?" the mayor asked.

"Well of course, Mr. Blumenstein, of course!"

"My name is Bohlwinkel." the mayor muttered, but naturally Bianca didn't hear, or if she did, she ignored him.

"Ladies first." Bianca said, smiling as she reached her hand into a bowl and pulled out a slip. Everyone held their breaths. Parents clutched their daughters tightly. The orphan girls held hands and shut their eyes as Bianca unrolled the slip. "Marina Irving!"

There was a silence as everyone looked around to see who was the unlucky girl. They found her as she walked up to the stage, her poisonous-green eyes glaring at the crowd, her messy muddy-brown hair waving in the ocean wind. Her lips were pursed and her eyebrows were knitted in a scowl. If she was terrified, her pale face didn't show it. She lifted a skinny arm to swat a fly. People began whispering to each other, and Tintin caught the words "Peacekeeper's daughter".

"And now for the boys." Bianca said as she pulled out a second slip. "Chang Chong-Chen!"

The sighs of disapproval as the twelve year old slowly walked through the crowd were all just a muted roar to Tintin's ears. The odds of Chang being chosen were so low! Why, out of all of the slips in the bowl, did it have to be Chang's? All Tintin could do was watch in horror as Chang whimpered as he shakily walked up the steps towards his doom. He was so weak, he wouldn't make it out, not in a million chances! Tintin snapped out of his thoughts as he yelled, "CHANG!" and ran towards his best friend. Chang stopped walking as he turned to Tintin, his eyes wide in fear.

Two identical Peacekeepers blocked his way. One of them said, "We're sorry, but we cannot let you pass."

The other one said, "To be precise-" but was interrupted as Tintin shoved passed them, running to the stage. They caught him and dragged the screaming boy away.

"NO! NO! YOU CAN'T! YOU CAN'T LET HIM GO! NO!" Tintin shrieked as he struggled in vain to release their grips. The only thing that his frantic mind was processing was _Chang is going to die. _Tintin, long ago, had made a promise to Chang. And he was going to keep it. "I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!" The crowd all murmured to each other as the Peacekeepers let go of Tintin in shock. Tintin didn't notice; all that he knew was that Chang was safe as he ran towards him.

Chang was horrified. "Tintin, what have you done?" Chang said, his voice an octave higher. "You're going to die! No! Let me go! No! NO!" All Tintin could do was watch as Chang was carried away, shrieking. He blinked away tears and continued up the stage.

Bianca, clearly excited, said, "Well I don't believe I've seen that before! What's your name?" She pointed the microphone at Tintin.

"I'm-" his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and continued. "I'm Tintin." he said with a great effort; his throat was tight as he swallowed nervously. _That's not going to impress any sponsors. _He unwrapped his trembling crossed arms from covering his blue sweater and looked at the crowd, his head raised higher.

"Last name?"

"I don't have any."

"Well, let's have a round of applause for our volunteer!" Bianca said, clapping. She was the only one. Everyone else stared at Tintin in stunned silence. Bianca stopped clapping awkwardly. "Um, well, here are our tributes: Marina Irving and Tintin! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"


	2. Chapter 2

Five minutes were all they had until they had to part ways- perhaps forever. That was all the time they had to say their goodbyes. It was far from enough, but it would have to do. Time, after all, has a tendency to slip away like sand when it is needed most.

Chang burst through Tintin's door, a white dog cradled in his arms. "You brought Snowy too?" Tintin asked as the dog leaped into Tintin's arms and licked his face eagerly. "Good boy." he said to the hyperactive white puppy.

"I thought you'd want to see him one last time before... before..." Chang couldn't bring himself to say the final words. He shook his head, dropping the thought. "Why did you volunteer for me? Why didn't you just let me go?"

Tintin replied, "If I had let you go, you would have died."

"But now _you're _going to die!" he said hysterically.

Tintin grabbed Chang's shoulders, looking straight into his black eyes. "Chang, listen to me. What's done is done, and we can't change that now." he said, trying to hide the anxiety in his voice. "My father used to say that we shouldn't keep dwelling on the past and instead pay attention to our future. Maybe I'll die in the arena, but you have to move on without me. Remember what I've told you before. Don't steal too much from one person. Wake up in time for school. Don't bother Peacekeepers."

Chang nodded tearfully, hanging onto Tintin's words desperately. "I want you to have this." he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something that glittered in the morning sunlight. It was an iron pendant that consisted of a circle with two dots and a wavy line dividing it. "It was my mother's. She said that it came from an ancient empire far away from here. It's supposed to bring good luck." Chang explained as he hung it around Tintin's neck. As Tintin examined it, he realized that a necklace like this could easily sell for a month's worth of food, but Chang had still kept it after all these years.

"I can't take this!" Tintin said with alarm. "This is yours!"

"It would mean a lot more to me if you took it. That way, you'll know that a part of me will always be with you, no matter what." Chang replied.

"I... I don't know what to say..." Tintin stuttered. He shut his eyes tightly as tears leaked out. "Thanks Chang. Thanks for being such a good friend."

"Just _try _to come back, won't you?" Chang begged. "Please?"

"I promise." Tintin said, his blue eyes steely with determination as he tried to hide the nervousness in his voice. "Could you take care of Snowy for me?"

Chang nodded and hugged Tintin tightly for a few seconds. "You saved my life, and not just this once." Chang said quietly. "I'm sorry I can't repay you."

"Times up!" a Peacekeeper barked. Chang looked at Tintin wildly, a panicked expression on his face.

Tintin gave Chang a reassuring nod. "I'll be fine. Take care of yourself."

Chang took Snowy and walked to the door. He looked back and said sadly, "Goodbye, Tintin."

Tintin opened his mouth to reply, but a Peacekeeper cut him off by closing the door. "Goodbye, Chang." he whispered. He let out a choked sob as he curled up on the plush couch, feeling truly alone. "Goodbye."

* * *

As Tintin was escorted out of his room, he glanced at Marina. She still had a glowering expression, but her sharp green eyes were tinged with red and were slightly wet. Marina caught Tintin looking at her, wiped her eyes angrily, and said, "What are _you _looking at?"

"Nothing." Tintin replied as he turned away.

The train station was piled with cameras. Tintin and Marina both formed stoic expressions on their faces, knowing full well that people would want to sponsor the ones that were strong. The sounds of the cameras clicking were muted when the train door closed behind them and the train pulled out of the station, away from District 4, away from home.

The train was the richest thing Tintin had ever seen. Having lived most of his life on the streets, this was a whole new world to him. The thick velvet carpet and the plush couches were all made from the finest products of District 8. The lamps, the tables, the chairs, they were all new sights to Tintin.

Bianca Castafiore walked in, wearing the most ridiculous things Tintin had ever seen. She had on a pink jacket dress decorated with dozens of jewels and a white hat with a red ribbon and dozens of flowers. Bianca had applied tons of makeup, making her look young and old at the same time. "It's a busy, busy day tomorrow! Once we get to the Capitol, you're going to be put in the most _adorable _clothes ever! Then you'll be broadcast to the whole country! Oh, this is the most exciting thing ever, don't you think?" Bianca Castafiore gushed. She didn't get the reaction she wanted. Marina simply rolled her eyes and Tintin was staring at the back window even though District 4 had long since disappeared from his view. "Maybe I should get your spirits up by singing a song-"

"B-b-blistering barnacles, they're gonna get tortured anyway!" Captain Haddock stuttered as he tottered over to the group, a whiskey bottle in his hands.

Bianca ignored him. "Why don't you give them some advice, Captain Kapock?"

Captain Haddock looked at them, his black beard twitching as he yelled, "You're all going to die!" as he vomited all over the floor and promptly passed out. Marina groaned and walked away to some other compartment and an Avox came to clean up the mess. Tintin realized that Captain Haddock wasn't going to be much help, despite the fact that he had won his Hunger Games somehow. His drunkenness must also be a partial reason why there weren't any other victors. Tintin would have to learn by himself- and fast. Luckily, he had years of living on the streets to back him up.

"Tintin," Bianca said, "why the long face? Perhaps a shower would do you good!"

_It's "well", not "good". _"A what?"

"My dear boy, a _shower_. Don't tell me you don't know what a shower is!"

"Oh, I know what a shower is." Tintin lied. "Where can I take a, um, shower?"

Bianca giggled. "It's in your compartment over there. Don't want to look all dirty in the Capitol, now do you?"

"Um, yeah. Thanks." Tintin said as he walked away.

"You're welcome!" Bianca replied in her high-pitched Capitol accent.

* * *

Tintin realized that a shower was just a fancy version of a bath. As he filled the tub with warm water, he investigated the buttons which were organized into four groups: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and face wash. He had no idea what a shampoo or conditioner was. Why did Capitol life have to be so complicated? Back in District 4, a bath was just a dumping a bunch of water on yourself, and you were lucky if it was fresh, not salty. He stuck his face from behind the shower curtain and saw an Avox who was taking his clothes away. "Excuse me..." Tintin said. The Avox looked at him questioningly and Tintin realized that no one would ever be polite to an Avox. People were only supposed to give them orders. "What are shampoos and conditioners?" Tintin asked. The Avox gestured to his hair. "Oh, thank you." Tintin replied. The Avox stared at him as Tintin closed the shower curtain.

All of the buttons were labeled with certain smells like "peppermint", "citrus", "vanilla", and even "fish". Tintin wrinkled his nose in disgust. Who would want to smell like _fish_? But this was Capitol fashion he was talking about here, and no one really understood that. Tintin noticed that there was another button labeled "bubble bath", so he pressed it and pink bubbles filled the water. He lay down, relishing the warm, comfortable water as he recalled an old memory.

_5 year old Tintin was lying in his mother's lap as a comforting warmth emanated from the fireplace. She gently rocked the boy as her clear, crooning voice lulled the boy to sleep._

_Hush-a-bye, my little child,  
Hush-a-bye, though winds blow wild;  
While the storms rage o'er the sea,  
You shall sleep in serenity.  
Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye,  
Sea winds whistle a lullaby;  
Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye,  
Sea winds whistle a lullaby._

_Child of fisherfolk by the shore,_  
_Winds shall sing to you evermore;_  
_Winter gale or summer breeze,_  
_Fill your dreams with their melodies._  
_Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye,_  
_Sea winds whisper a lullaby;_  
_Hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye,_  
_Sea winds whisper a lullaby._

_She lovingly planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. "I love you..."_

Tintin snapped awake. "Mother?" he asked stupidly before remembering where he really was. He shut his eyes tightly as burning tears slid out. Tintin refrained from thinking about his parents' deaths; it would reduce him to a sobbing mess, and he needed to keep his thoughts together if he was going to survive the Hunger Games. He silently got out of the tub (the water was already cold) and put on his newly-washed blue sweater and brown pants. Tintin sadly put on Chang's pendant, their final words together echoing in his head. It had just been a few hours ago, but it felt like centuries.

* * *

The dining tables were covered in all food, and suddenly Tintin recalled with anger the starving orphans back at District 4. The Capitol was treating Tintin like a pig for slaughter. Tintin calmed down as he reminded himself that this would be his prize for winning the games. If he won, he could feed Chang and himself, and they would never go hungry again.

Captain Haddock was silently coping with his hangover, holding an ice pack to his forehead. Tintin could have sworn he heard Marina mutter "Serves him right."

Tintin saw silver objects laid by his plate, but he had no idea what they were for. Marina was currently using her hands instead to eat the rich food. Bianca berated her for her rudeness, but she ignored her. Tintin copied Bianca and noticed that the four-pronged object was for lifting food to the mouth, the sharp object was for slicing, and the round one was for eating soup. And so Tintin was slowly introduced to the Capitol's tedious, complicated way of eating. The food was the most delicious thing that Tintin had ever ate, and he kept eating until he realized with remorse that Chang might be starving back home. He slowly stopped eating. Bianca turned on the television just in time for the reaping. Tintin leaned closer to screen and paid close attention to the Careers.

District 1's tributes were "a sour-faced boy with a sugary name", according to Captain Haddock, and a little girl with copper-red hair, a freckle-dotted face, and a wide, toothy smile. Bianca cooed over the girl, saying that she was the most adorable thing ever. Marina scoffed.

District 2's tributes were a long-faced boy with short hair and a long nose and a girl with honey-blonde hair and amber-brown eyes who had a tall, lean figure and pale skin.

Those were the four Careers. All of them looked like a threat, except for the District 1 girl, but one should never be underestimated in the Hunger Games, especially a Career. The rest of the tributes were forgettable except for the District 11 boy tribute, who was a 12 year old. Tintin cringed because the boy reminded him of Chang, both in shy demeanor and size, but in this case no one decided to save the boy. He turned away and saw a look of horror on Marina's face as she murmured, "Thag could have been him..."

"What's wrong?"

Marina turned to glare at him with those green eyes that stared into his soul, although there was a hint of sadness in them. "Nothing. If you think acting nice to me will get you an ally, you thought wrong. I work alone."

Finally Captain Haddock said his first helpful advice. "That's not a good idea-" but was promptly interrupted by Marina's stare.

"I'm going to bed." she said as she stomped to her compartment. "Good night."

"Girl's got a temper, doesn't she." Captain Haddock muttered.

"I wouldn't talk." Tintin replied, recalling interviews where Caesar Flickerman made Captain Haddock, for lack of a better word, furious.

"You should probably get some sleep. Don't want to look tired for your first day at the Capitol, now do you?"

Tintin yawned. "Yep. Good night Captain. Good night Bianca." he said as he walked to his compartment and shut the door. He wondered how Chang was doing right now. Did he go to bed hungry? Did he manage to find money? Tintin was still clutching Chang's pendant when he fell asleep on a bed for the first time in years.

* * *

_Tintin shielded his eyes against the blinding light as he tried to get his bearings. He realized that he was in an arena, but he wasn't on one of the 24 plates surrounding the Cornucopia. He was standing off to the side, like a spectator. Tintin scanned the area and saw Chang standing on a plate. _What is he doing here? _Tintin wondered. _Chang's not supposed to be here! I thought I volunteered! _Tintin can see that Chang's plan was to run to the Cornucopia for some supplies, straight into the imminent bloodbath. "CHANG!" Tintin yelled as he tried to run to him, but his legs were like a fly trapped in amber. The 10 second countdown started, and Tintin knew that he wouldn't make it to Chang in time. Everyone jumped off their plates, most of them heading to the Cornucopia. Chang managed to grab a knife and started to run. It looked like he would make it, but all of a sudden a knife slammed through his back. Tintin screamed in horror but he could only watch as Chang coughed up blood and collapsed on the ground, his black eyes wide in fear as they stared up blankly at the sky._

Tintin woke up with a start, breathing heavily. He thanked his lucky stars that it had only been a nightmare, a terrible one at that. Tintin got up to drink some water and wondered where he was now. "I want to go home," Tintin said as he let the tears flow freely, "I just want to go home..."

**(A/N: The song is called "Lullaby of the Sea", written by David Lundie, music by Constantin Shvedoff, adapted by Terry Kluytmans)**


End file.
